Tuesday, November 10, 2009


Through yellow eyes you watch me,
you Omen of worse things to come
knowing there's poison in this cup
but blinking your silent assent
There are worse ways to go.

You slink away through iron fences
leave me to wonder about lost spaces
all the lampglow from other windows
simple chit-chat or hearts breaking.

Tick, tick, tick sings the insect above.
I take another drag and pollute
but the wind joins me, erases me.

Yellowed leaves twist, break their necks,
and fall.

Go Home. Go. Run Home, the wind whispers.

But I can't remember where it is.

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